GIFT  ©F 
John  C.  Lynch, 


ROCK  ME  TO  SLEEP,  MOTHER. 


BY 


ELIZABETH    AKERS   ALLEN. 


ILLUSTRATED. 


BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED    BY   ESTES   AND    LAURIAT. 
1883. 


Copyright,  1882, 
BY  ESTES  AND  LAURIAT. 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS: 
JOHN  WILSON  &  SON,  CAMBRIDGE. 


Drawn  and  Engraved  under  the  supervision  of 
GEORGE  T.  ANDREW. 

ARTISTS: 

S.  G.  McCuTCHEON.  JESSIE  CURTIS  SHEPHERD. 

F.  S.  CHURCH.  W.  L.  TAYLOR. 

E.  H.  GARRETT.  FRANCIS  MILLER. 

FRONTISPIECE. 

"  Backward,  turn  backward,  O  Time,  in  your  flight  "  1 1 

"  Mother,  come  back  from  the  echoless  shore  " 13 

"Over  my  slumbers  your  loving  watch  keep,  —  rock  me  to  sleep,  mother,  rock 

me  to  sleep" *5 

"  I  am  so  weary  of  toil  and  of  tears  "     .  17 

"  Backward,  flow  backward,  O  tide  of  the  years  !"....         19 


5441571 


"  I  have  grown  weary  of  dust  and  decay  " iy 

"  Weary  of  sowing  for  others  to  reap  " 19 

"  Many  a  summer  the  grass  has  grown  green  " 21 

"  Many  a  summer  the  grass  has  grown  green,  blossomed  and  faded,  our  faces 

between" 23 

"  Yet,  with  strong  yearning  and  passionate  pain,  long  I  to-night  for  your 

presence  again " 25 

"  No  love  like  mother-love  ever  has  shone  " 27 

"  None  like  a  mother  can  charm  away  pain  " 29 

"  Haply  will  throng  the  sweet  visions  of  yore  " 31 

"Shading  my  faint  eyes  away  from  the  light" 33 

"  For  with  its  sunny-edged  shadows  once  more,  haply  will  throng  the  sweet 

visions  of  yore " 35 

"  Since  I  last  listened  your  lullaby  song  "  .  37 

"  Never  hereafter  to  wake  or  to  weep  " 39 


BACKWARD,  turn  backward,  O  Time,  in  your 

flight, 

Make  me  a  child  again,  just  for  to-night  1 
Mother,  come  back  from  the  echoless  shore, 
Take  me  again  to  your  heart,  as  of  yore ; 
Kiss  from  my  forehead  the  furrows  of  care, 
Smooth  the  few  silver  threads  out  of  my  hair, 
Over  my  slumbers  your  loving  watch  keep,  — 
Rock  me  to  sleep,  mother,  rock  me  to  sleep. 

Backward,  flow  backward,  O  tide  of  the  years ! 
I  am  so  weary  of  toil  and  of  tears,  — 
Toil  without  recompense,  tears  all  in  vain, 
Take  them  and  give  me  my  childhood  again ; 
1  have  grown  weary  of  dust  and  decay, 
Weary  of  flinging  my  soul-wealth  away, 
Weary  of  sowing  for  others  to  reap,  — 
Rock  me  to  sleep,  mother,  rock  me  to  sleep. 

Tired  of  the  hollow,  the  base,  the  untrue, 
Mother,  O  mother,  my  heart  calls  for  you ; 
Many  a  summer  the  grass  has  grown  green, 
Blossomed  and  faded,  our  faces  between, 
Yet,  with  strong  yearning  and  passionate  pain, 
Long  I  to-night  for  your  presence  again. 
Come  from  the  silence  so  long  and  so  deep,  — 
Rock  me  to  sleep,  mother,  rock  me  to  sleep. 


Over  my  heart,  in  the  days  that  are  flown, 
No  love  like  mother-love  ever  has  shone; 
No  other  worship  abides  and  endures 
Faithful,  unselfish,  and  patient,  like  yours  ; 
None  like  a  mother  can  charm  away  pain 
From  the  sick  soul  and  the  world-weary  brain. 
Slumber's  soft  calms  o'er  my  heavy  lids  creep,  — 
Rock  me  to  sleep,  mother,  rock  me  to  sleep. 

Come,   let  your  brown  hair,  just  lighted  with 

gold, 

Fall  on  your  shoulders  again,  as  of  old ; 
Let  it  drop  over  my  forehead  to-night, 
Shading  my  faint  eyes  away  from  the  light, 
For  with  its  sunny-edged  shadows  once  more, 
Haply  will  throng  the  sweet  visions  of  yore ; 
Lovingly,  softly,  its  bright  billows  sweep, — 
Rock  me  to  sleep,  mother,  rock  me  to  sleep. 

Mother,  dear  mother,  the  years  have  been  long, 
Since  I  last  listened  your  lullaby  song  ; 
Sing,  then,  and  unto  my  soul  it  shall  seem 
Womanhood's  years  have  been  only  a  dream. 
Clasped  to  your  heart  in  a  loving  embrace, 
With  your  light  lashes  just  sweeping  my  face, 
Never  hereafter  to  wake  or  to  weep,  — 
Rock  me  to  sleep,  mother,  rock  me  to  sleep. 


ROCK    ME   TO    SLEEP,    MOTHER. 


BACKWARD,  turn  backward,  O  Time,  in  your  flight, 
Make  me  a  child  again,  just  for  to-night  ! 
Mother,  come  back  from  the  echoless  shore, 
Take  me  again  to  your  heart,  as  of  yore  ; 
Kiss  from  my  forehead  the  furrows  of  care, 
Smooth  the  few  silver  threads  out  of  my  hair, 


J father,  come  back  from  the  echoless  shore" 


Over  my  slumbers  your  loving  watch  keep,— 
Rock  me  to  sleep,  mother,  rock  me  to  sleep. 


"  /  am  so  weary  of  (oil  and  of  tears." 


Backward,  , .; 
flow  backward, 

0  tide  of  the  years  !  I  -     '^^f^ 

1  am  so  weary  of  toil  and  of  tears,  — 
1  /  \?  '•  •) 

Toil  without  recompense,  tears  all  in  vain. 

Take  them  and  give  me  my  childhood  again ; 

m: 


have  grown  weary  of  dust  and  decay, 
Weary  of  flinging  my  soul-wealth  away, 

m^ 


Weary  of  sowing  for  others  to  reap,— 
Rock  me  to  sleep,  mother,  rock  me  to  sleep. 


"Many  a  summer  the  grass  has  grown  green" 


Tired  of  the  hollow,  the  base,  the  untrue, 
Mother,  O  mother,  my  heart  calls  for  you  ; 
Many  a  summer  the  grass  has  grown  green, 
Blossomed  and  faded,  our  faces  between, 


,V- 

WPs 


Yet,  with  strong  yearning  and  passionate  pain, 
Long  I  to-night  for  your  presence  again. 


Come  from  the  silence  so  long  and  so  deep, 
Rock  me  to  sleep  mother,  rock  me  to  sleep. 


love  like  mother-love  ever  has  shone." 


Over  my  heart,  in  the  days  that  are  flown, 
No  love  like  mother-love  ever  has  shone ; 


No  other  worship  abides  and  endures 
Faithful,  unselfish,  and  patient,  like  yours  ; 
None  like  a  mother  can  charm  away  pain 
From  the  sick  soul  and  the  world-weary  brain. 
Slumber's  soft  calms  o'er  my  heavy  lids  creep,  - 
Rock  me  to  steep,  mother,  rock  me  to  sleep. 


'* Haply  will  throng  the  sweet  visions  of  yore'' 


Come,  let  your  brown  hair,  just  lighted  with  gold, 
Fall  on  your  shoulders  again,  as  of  old  ; 


Let  it  drop  over  my  forehead  to-night, 
Shading  my  faint  eyes  away  from  the  light, 


with  its  sunny-edged  shadows  once  more, 
Haply  will  throng  the  sweet  visions  of  yore; 
Lovingly,  softly,  its  bright 

billows  sweep, — 

Rock  me  to  sleep,  mother, 

rock  me  to  sleep. 


"Since  I  last  listened  your  lullaby  song" 


Mother,  dear  mother,  the  years  have  been  long, 
Since  I  last  listened  your  lullaby  song  ; 
Sing,  then,  and  unto  my  soul  it  shall  seem 
Womanhood's  years  have  been  only  a  dream. 
Clasped  to  your  heart  in  a  loving  embrace, 
With  your  light  lashes  just  sweeping  my  face, 
Never  hereafter  to  wake  or  to  weep,  — 
Rock  me  to  sleep,  mother,  rock  me  to  sleep. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
BERKELEY 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed. 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


' 


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4^963 


JAN     5  1966  8  3 
REC'D 

DEC  29  '65  ^1  AW 

LOAN  DEPT. 


SEP  15  198 

•       0.  DISC 
SEP  15  198' 


APR  1  6  1972 

LD  21-100m-9,'48(B399sl6)476 

T9AM  ARC 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


